The tavern fell into a sudden silence, followed by a burst of laughter. Some of the busybodies could not help but whistle.
Old Duffy picked up the bottle on the table and gulped down half of it. He then wiped the wine off his beard and looked at the young man in a cloak. "For the sake of the money, I'll give you a piece of advice. Get out of Nyax, you foreigner!"
Painter's expression did not change. He simply lifted the cover on his staff.
In the next moment, the customers felt as if their necks were being strangled. The jeering and mocking laughter stopped abruptly.
"A Magician?" someone exclaimed.
Unlike big cities like Gudilesi and Armored Rock City, Nyakes in the north had always been one of the most inconspicuous towns in the world. There were many inconspicuous towns like this all over the world. Only the kingdom would remember them when they collected taxes every year, and usually, no one would remember their names.
Even the Magician's Association would not set up a branch in Nyax. The reason was simple: there were no Magicians to manage the town. Therefore, the probability of encountering a Magician in Nyax was about the same as encountering a dragon. Everyone in the tavern was shocked. Then, they realized the seriousness of the problem.
Someone wanted to sneak out and report to the Guard, but the next moment, the broken stools under their butts flew up as if they had grown wings. Many people were caught off guard and fell flat on their backs.
The stools gathered together and sealed the door of the tavern. Painter took off his cloak and hat and said, "Remember, you asked for it."
Old Duffy was indeed a veteran who had participated in the Northern Defense War. His reaction was the fastest. In times of peace, except for adventurers who traveled around the world in search of excitement, most people would not carry weapons. However, Old Duffy was an exception. He had survived the Shuraba. After the war ended, he would often be awakened by nightmares in the middle of the night. Only a weapon could give him a sense of security. Therefore, even when he returned to his hometown, he always carried a dagger on his waist.
And now was the time for this dagger to come in handy.
As soon as Old Duffy's fingers touched the back of the dagger, he heard the young man's voice. "If I were you, I wouldn't do such a stupid thing."
However, Old Duffy was not easily frightened. After hearing the young man's warning, he did not stop. Instead, he sped up, pulled out the dagger, and thrust it forward.
His combat skills were undoubtedly still very rough, still stuck in the straightforward category of the army. However, such simple skills had been honed in actual combat and were very useful most of the time.
However, it was a pity that his opponent this time was Painter, the new guardian of the human race and the youngest level-nine Supreme Magus in history. The gap between the two of them was too huge. It was impossible for Painter to be ambushed by a farmer who was not even a professional in a remote town that no one had ever heard of.
The dagger did not get close to his body at all. Although everyone in the tavern widened their eyes, they still could not see what happened at that moment. Then, they heard Old Duffy let out a muffled groan. His hand that was holding the dagger had been nailed to the table by his own dagger.
Cold sweat oozed from Old Duffy's forehead, but he forced himself not to howl. The veins on his neck bulged like wriggling earthworms.
"Why did you have to do this? Nothing would have happened if you had cooperated earlier. Wouldn't the result be the same in the end? Why did you have to suffer like this?" Painter held his staff in one hand and took out two silver coins from his pocket with the other, throwing them at the dumbfounded tavern owner. "Give me a glass of wine to moisten my throat. The one behind you will do."
Probably frightened by Painter's fierceness, the tavern owner's hands kept trembling as he poured the wine. The mouth of the bottle collided with the wall of the glass, producing a clanking sound that was ear-piercing in the deathly silent tavern.
Painter raised his glass. "Since you don't like the way I negotiated before, let's change the way we do it. From now on, every time I ask a question, if no one answers, I will nail the hand of one of you to the table like this until someone can give me the answer I want."
With this sentence, the atmosphere in the tavern suddenly became even more tense. Finally, someone could no longer withstand the terrifying pressure and said, "I'll talk, I'll talk. The two people you're looking for are not in the town. They're by Lake Tanya. There's a small wooden house there with a kind of lavender flower blooming outside. I think it's called the Wind Traveler or something. It's easy to recognize."
The man said quickly in a trembling voice, thinking that he was finally safe. However, he did not expect his body to involuntarily fly toward the young mage by the counter.
"You lead the way. I'll let you go after I find them, but if you dare to play any tricks along the way, remember that you'll end up like that guy." After Painter said this, the small stools blocking the way at the door suddenly exploded.
After that, he took the lead and strode out.
After a long while, the unlucky informant also came out of the tavern, trembling. Painter was satisfied with this guy's initial performance. He did not know if there was a back door in the tavern, but he did not care. If this guy was smart enough, he should know that it was impossible to escape from a Magician with just a back door.
Even after the two of them left the Salted Fish Tavern, the customers were still shocked by Painter's power. No one spoke for a long time. After an unknown period of time, someone came back to his senses and shouted, "Oh no, hurry up and report this to the guards."
…
The place that the unlucky informant mentioned was not far from the town. It would take less than half a magic hour on horseback. However, Painter did not want to wait any longer. Ever since he learned of Rob's location, it was as if there was a fire burning in his heart. After identifying the direction, he grabbed the latter's collar and used Phase Shift.
Three minutes later, the two figures appeared outside the small wooden house. The process was so easy that Painter could not believe it.
If the unlucky informant was not lying, this was the place where the two of them lived in seclusion. How could there be no defensive measures at all? Not to mention magic circles and traps, there was not even the most basic means of alarm. Wasn't it a little too careless?
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